You all know that Matt, Near and L dislikes going outside, but what about Mello? I've always thought that Mello was afraid to face his enemies at one point, as there's so many people out there that are bound to get him.

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I stay, curled up in a ball against the arm of my worn, leather couch with a chocolate bar in hand. I stay, inside. Surrounded by four plain (but safe) walls, with white paint slowly peeling off, deteriorating. I am swaddled in leather, clothed in leather, bound in leather. My other hand clutches my Rosary's iron Crucifix, my leather-clad fingers dance and skim along the red and white glass beads. I hear the soothing sound of the beads clicking. One side of my face is burning, the other side is unpleasantly cold. I slowly roll over to my unscarred side. In here, I'm safe.

"Ring!" Goes my phone. It jitters against the glass coffee table.

*Ignore

"Ring!"

*Ignore

"Ring!"

I don't feel like talking.

(A few more rings)

"Beep" A voice message.

"Hey, Mell. It's Matt (who else would it be?)! I'm on a cigarette run, would you like me to buy you some more chocolates?"

I lazily reach over for the phone, and send him a text message.

Mello: You know damn well what the answer is.

...

Matt: ok then

(He knows me way too well)

I need chocolate to comfort me, more than ever now. I stay curled up with my phone in hand, for a while, but I can't stay here, idle for any longer. There are wolves out in full force, ready to strike anytime. I need-we need to get moving and prepare for the time. After some consideration, I flip open the phone, once again and sent another text to Matt.

Mello: Can u keep a close eye on that Misa-girl we saw the other day?

Matt: Okay, am i watching from the cameras, or actually going outside this time?

Mello: ur going out.

Matt: y?

...

Mello: cuz, I don't feel like going out right now.

Matt: I don't either.

Mello: whatever, just come home first.

I snap the phone shut and place it back onto the coffee table. The truth is, I'm afraid to step foot outside. I haven't taken a single step past the threshold ever since the explosion. I used to believe that I was invincible, unstoppable, crafted out of pure titanium. I used to think that nothing can stop me without putting up a fight. But that was before. That was the past. That was before I realized that I'm more fragile than I think. I mean, I almost died out there, if Matt didn't turn the TV on at the right time, and rush over to save my ass, as soon as he saw what's remaining from the Mafia headquarters on the news. My scar just adds to the thought, although Matt seems to see it as a token of badass-ery. To simply put it, that very day was the day I realized oh fuck, I can actually die.

I want to remain like this, surrounded by the same four walls of security for the rest of my life. Because every time I turn a corner, there's always someone lurking in the shadows, bound to get me. At least I will be sheltered from all the menace out there. At least I can hide from the predators.

I forgot all about the chocolate bar I've left uneaten in my hand. It melted inside the foil, so I set it aside, onto the coffee table beside my phone.

Matt returned with two packs of cigarettes, a bag of Hershey's chocolates and his somewhat cheerful, laid-back attitude. He leaves the bag on the kitchen table and plops down at the empty spot right beside me and carefully lifted his orange-tinted goggles off his freckled face.

"You are going outside for once, Mello." He firmly stated.

I guess he's not bringing back his cheerful, laid-back attitude after all.

"You know that I can't, Matt."

He heaves a sigh.

"Look Mello, you can. I know that there are people who are bound to get you, but you can't stay like this forever. Everyone has fears, anxieties and insecurities, but you have to get over them eventually. Getting over something that has been plaguing your mind is like lifting a heavy weight off your shoulders."

"But can't you go for me, for one last time, please Matt." Mello pleaded.

Matt thought for a while, taking what I said into consideration. I guess It's because I rarely say "please" or "thank you".

"Fine, I'll go out for your sake, for one last time. But you're going out next time."

Matt wraps his gloved hand around my waist. I rest my head against his shoulder.

"Just for one last time..." I mumbled.

Matt smiled.

I may be scared, but I'm not alone. Even though I've lost everyone I know, I still have Matt after all those years. It was by chance that he found me anyways. I guess I was lucky that day. As I close my eyes, the image of scorching flames, smothering, black fumes, a half-melted gas mask, carnage, dead bodies, chaos and my frantic self, running away slowly fades away.

At last, I'm ready to put my past behind me, and look onward. I have a goal to achieve after all.